majesty to it that made him feel as if it had a slumbering life of its own, as peaceful and gentle as Rhiannon.
'Fairyland,' he said. 'That's what you're talking about.'
'It has always existed, though for many generations of your kind the doors were locked.' Her brow furrowed as she examined his face closely; Mallory had the strangest feeling she was looking deep into his mind. 'Does it trouble you?' she asked.
'I'm not surprised by anything anymore.'
Her smile returned. She motioned for him to follow her into the trees where the perfume of summer vegetation was more heady. Enough moonlight broke through the cover to allow them to see the nocturnal animals scurrying out of their path and the ghostly imprint of owls in the branches over their heads. Mallory was surprised to see glitter trails moving through the treetops, which he at first took to be fireflies, but which eventually revealed themselves to be tiny gossamer-winged people frolicking amongst the branches. They, too, made him feel powerfully happy, as if they radiated an energy field that altered his emotions. For the first time in ages he felt at ease. In his swirl of feelings, he suddenly felt like crying, and he hadn't cried in a long while. The thought of going back to the bleakness of his own home depressed him immensely.
'I think I'd like to stay here a while,' he ventured.
She shook her head, looked away into the dark. 'You have a job to do, Mallory. Every Fragile Creature has work of the greatest importance to do before they finally depart die Fixed Lands. A task that is unique to them, so important it is stitched into the fabric of Existence. And you cannot rest — none of you can rest — until your personal task has been completed.' She paused. 'There is always time to rest, when the work is done.'
'What task?' he asked. 'What use can I be?'
When she turned her face back to him, there was something profound locked in her eyes and her smile, but it was too enigmatic for him to decipher. She carried on amongst the trees in silence until they reached a large clearing where the moon appeared to have come down to earth, so milky and luminescent was the light reflected on the metallic items scattered all around. Swords were embedded in the ground. Shields lay like seashells; helms and breastplates, axes, spears and other weapons Mallory didn't recognise had been discarded there. It was the detritus of some great battle.
'These remain here, so even at this, the most gentle of all the Courts… especially at this Court… we never forget,' Rhiannon said gravely. 'Suffering is always only a whisper away. Peace and happy days never last. Pain and war and despair will always rise up.'
'That's a depressing view of life,' Mallory said.
She disagreed forcefully. 'Peace and happy days have their potency because of this dark side. Without it, the things we treasure would tarnish with boredom. They shine because we know the dark is always over the next rise.'
'So you're justifying war… and suffering…?' He was deeply surprised by her position after what he had seen of her so far.
'Justifying? No. Accepting. It is the way of Existence. There is a meaning for everything that happens. We deal with the unpleasant things in the same way that we celebrate the wondrous. And we must always deal with them. Never turn our backs, let them gain an upper hand, throw Existence out of balance so the darkness gains ascendancy, for that is what the darkness always wants.'
He had a feeling she was no longer talking in abstract terms; indeed, was talking directly to him.
'We must be vigilant,' she continued, 'all of us, and even the gentlest must take a stand, on their own terms, when needs call.'
She moved amongst the weapons of the dead before selecting a sword. She nodded knowingly as she weighed it in her hands, then handed it to him. Moonlight limned its edges so that it appeared as if a faint blue light was leaking out of the very fabric of the blade. Its handle was inlaid with silver and was carved with two entwining dragons, like the flag he saw flying over the pagan camp.
'I have a sword,' he said.
'Your sword is built to despatch the threats of the Fixed Lands. This is a sword of my people. It has a power that transcends the space it holds. Three great swords were forged from the very stuff of Existence, so our stories tell us. Three swords that can cleave the very foundations of life. One is the Sword of Nuada Airgetiamh — that stands alone and will not be seen again until the Dragon-Brother returns. The second is lost, believed corrupted, a danger to all who wield it. This is the third, and it is linked to your land in a fundamental way. Keep it close. It will bring you light and warmth in the dark days ahead.'
'You're talking as if it's alive.'
'It is, in the way that all things are alive, from the stones of the field to the clouds of the sky.' She proffered the sword. Mallory hesitated before taking it, but when it slipped into his fingers it felt instantly comfortable. A tingling warmth spread through his palm into his arm. It felt as if the dragons on the handle were shifting to accommodate the unique musculature of his hand. 'It is called Llyrwyn.'
'It has a name?' Mallory said wryly.
'There is a reason it has a name, and that reason should be clear, if not now, then in good time.'
'Why are you giving me a sword?'
'I told you, there is a meaning to everything that happens. You are not here by chance. In the terms of your world, you may have arrived a little earlier or a little later, but you would always have come here, to this spot. For the sword.'
Mallory turned the blade over in his hand curiously. The faint blue glow wasn't a product of the moonlight at all — it truly was coming from the weapon. 'I don't understand.'
She moved her hand slowly to indicate the trees, the sky, the grass. 'Everything is alive, everything is linked. There is a mind behind it all. We cannot know it, nor begin to know it, but it shapes us all… Fragile Creatures, Golden Ones… We are all part of it. And it demands champions. In its wisdom, it has decreed they come from the ranks of Fragile Creatures… of your kind, Mallory. They fight for the very essence of Existence, for Truth and Life. They are known in the Fixed Lands… in your world… as Brothers and Sisters of Dragons. At any time, five are chosen, though they may never be called to fight the enemies of Existence.'
Mallory didn't like the way the conversation was going. 'What are you saying?'
'The five who held that role throughout the troubles that devastated your land are broken, Mallory. Gone… to time long gone, to the Grey Lands, to different roles where the need for them is greater. A new five must arise.'
He shook his head as if his own denial would prevent what she was saying from being true.
'You are the first, Mallory.'
'That's ridiculous. It's so ridiculous it's laughable. Me, a champion?'
The concept was absurd in so many different ways he couldn't begin to tell her.
'There is a need for you, Mallory. A great need. And you will be ready for it, though there may be more forging necessary. Existence does not choose its champions unwisely. You are a Brother of Dragons.'
'A Brother of Dragons,' he repeated with a disbelieving laugh. 'OK, I'll bite. For now.'
She gave him a scabbard, which he fastened to his belt, and then she motioned for him to follow her again. Mallory's mind was racing. He'd just about accepted that he was nowhere on earth, that he was in a place that had slipped into folklore as Fairyland and that the woman with him was of a race that simpler people had come to call fairies. But where he really was, and what she truly was, escaped him. What made him uneasy was the realisation that since the Fall the world was not simply at the mercy of isolated supernatural predators that looked as if they'd wandered in from Grimm's Fairy Tales. There were other powers, perhaps higher powers, that had some interest in humanity; mankind was no longer in control of its own future.
As they moved back through the trees towards the Court, he put his tumbling thoughts to one side and said, 'Why are you helping me?'
'You were brought to me, and I never turn away a creature in need.' She appeared to consider this for a while before adding, 'My people have always had a relationship with your kind, sometimes friends, sometimes enemies, but always there.'
An owl broke through the branches and circled her until she held out an arm for it to land. Her skin remained unscathed under its claws. She leaned towards it, apparently listening, as it made a series of strange sounds deep in its throat. 'There is food and drink on the table if you wish to refresh yourself,' she said as it took flight.
On the way back to the Court, Mallory thought he could sense a deep sadness underneath her calm, as if she
